Crimson Butte stalked the fortress carefully though her looking glass. The imposing fortress stood monumentally on the top of a hill and was backdropped by an auburn sky which gave the majestic citadel an orange hue as Celestia dipped her sun below the horizon. Its tall limestone walls snaked gracefully around the curves of the hill, encapsulating a large domed building whose peak could just barely be seen over its walls. She would pan along the battlements and would watch the tiny dots move back and forth like ants on top of the ramparts. Hundreds of griffons ebbed and flowed throughout the fortress as if they were blood coursing through its veins. The old fortress was once the home of terrestrials who had fled Equestria after the fall of Nightmare Moon. They had come to Griffonia in droves and built forts like this all over the continent. Some made their own communities separate from the Griffons, ruling over kingdoms made up of and ruled by terrestrials; others who did not have the means to self-rule lived as refugees, in ghettos and segregated quarters of griffon towns and cities; a select few terrestrials, however, had elected to rule over the griffons instead of coinciding with them and the fortress here at been one of those cases. It was built as the seat of terrestrial power over griffons and remained so for almost two decades before the garrison would be overrun by a mob of angry griffons and the terrestrial tyrants were hung from its mighty towers. In a strange sense of irony, what had once been a symbol of tyranny now was the griffons of this area’s only hope at salvation. Crimson found this curious twist of fate amusing and could not help but ponder the unpredictable nature of history.

Crimson had felt sick that morning. The ponies had been sieging the fort for almost two months now and it consumed her. In the eyes of her superiors, she had been right on track, but to her she was entirely too slow. Every day that passed ate away at her and every minute gnawed at the back of her mind. Her grandfather had fought against Nightmare Moon. Had sieged fortress ten times the size of this one and did so with shocking effectiveness and efficiency. At the battle of Horseshoe Bay, he took the city and its fort in four days. At the pace Crimson is moving it will take her four months to take this one measly terrestrial fort that was garrisoned by griffons. She looked at the encampment through the looking glass again, and it looked back at her mockingly. Its limestone walls turned white in the morning sun which made them look pure and pristine as if it had not suffered the past two months under siege. The Griffons on its walls moved to-and-fro the dots bouncing with their steps as if laughing at her from its walls. She closed her eyes and rubbed them with a hoof. She walked past a long mirror that was in her tent and cringed at the reflection. Her deep blue eyes were red and bloodshot, and her face had dark and saggy bags. Her once vibrant red mane had dulled a little and was disheveled and frizzy. Her wavy brown fur was unkempt and felt heavy on her skin. She grabbed a comb and went through her hair, she made sure to part it in the front as to show off her most important feature: her long and sharp horn. After she had gotten her mane in a state she would be comfortable with, she made her way out of the tent and into the camp proper.

The camp was large and bustling with tan tents that reached out as far as she could see in all directions; the encampment sprawled around the fortress in every direction as if it had sprouted from the ground around it; ponies moved like bees buzzing in a hive, each with a purpose and they bounced from place to place with hurried vigor. Crimson navigated the congested paths of the tent city with ease and gave salutes to ponies as she went by. After walking through the maze-like streets of the camp she eventually came upon a large tent that stood disconnected from the rest. The tent was large and ornate, with purple terms and golden suns embroidered on the sides. It had a wide awning that came out about ten feet and cast a cool shade in front of the tent. Two guards stood on either side of the door and upon seeing her they saluted and moved to let her in.

Able Illusion stood as she entered the tent. They saluted each other and shook hooves before sitting around a large table that took up most of the room in the tent. ‘You look like shit.’ Able said, chuckling to himself as she gave him a pointed look. ‘You do not look much better yourself’ She replied, absentmindedly brushing her hair with her hoof. It was a lie; Able Illusion was a handsome stallion and notorious for keeping up appearances even in a military encampment. His violent violet mane was manicured and cut short, it was styled as to spiral out from the horn which was a common and popular haircut amongst unicorn stallions. His milky cream-colored fur had been brushed and washed and shone beautifully even in the dimly lit tent. His brown eyes looked her over and, with a sigh, he motioned for her to move her chair over toward him, which she had done. There he began running a hair bush through her mane with his hoof while using his magic to smooth out her coat. ‘The soldiers cannot have their commander looking like death. You must keep up appearances, it inspires confidence.’ Able Illusion said. Crimson Butte only grunted in response before resting her head on his chest and closing her eyes. ‘If you are going to sleep do so in your own tent, we cannot afford any rumors.’ He said but continued to brush and stroke her mane and fur. ‘I am not sleeping, just resting my eyes.’ She replied. Had her eyes been open she would have seen Able Illusion give her a look of distrust.

After he had finished combing through her hair, he nudged her awake and stood up. ‘You got droll on my coat you know,’ he said in mock anger. Crimson wiped her mouth with her leg and gave him a sheepish half-hearted apology. Able looked as if he wanted to tell her something but thought better of it and instead walked outside the tent. After shaking the remnants of sleep off she made her way to a desk mirror that was in the tent and admired the now pristine and sleekness of her fur and mane. Satisfied with her appearance, she followed Able Illusion outside of the tent.

Author's Note

Hey everyone! I am not 100% on this chapter it feels so let me know why I feel that way or if I am just crazy. As always leave criticism please.